


Happy New Vorn!

by Kit_SummerIsle



Series: Cybertronian Advent Calendar [23]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Advent Calendar, Drinking, New Year, Party, Singing, extra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_SummerIsle/pseuds/Kit_SummerIsle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Advent Calendar Extra - New Year<br/>Their first New Year's Eve party together.<br/>G1-ish, post-war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy New Vorn!

**Author's Note:**

> I know it doesn't belong to the advent calendar, but I felt like writing one more fic about them and the holiday season. :-)
> 
> A Happy New Year to all my readers too!

“Happy New Vorn, Optimus, Screamer!”

“Don’t! Call me that!”

Optimus petted the tense wings and Jazz apologetically offered some treats to the Seeker. It took some breems, but Starscream eventually forgot the hated nickname and sat by Optimus almost like he enjoyed the party. He didn’t but that was mainly thanks to the loud music and the noise that irritated his sensitive sensors. The occasional dark looks weren’t really helping – most of the Autobots still had to get used to having the enemy SIC as the bondmate of their Prime… and some haven’t even tried. 

“Happy New Vorn, Optimus Prime!”

Like Tracks, purposefully ignoring the Seeker and speaking deliberately to Optimus Prime. Starscream happily ignored the vain fop back.

“A happier vorn, Prime, Sir…” – and an added murmur – “… and a better bondmate maybe…”

“Ironhide!”

Or Ironhide, unable to resist the barb, despite of the stormy brow-plates of Optimus Prime. Starscream, for his part, just hissed at the weapons officer, well aware of his opinion of him.

“A Merry Vorn, Optimus Prime, Sir, and some better luck too than this Con scum!” 

“Cliffjumper, withdraw that and apologize!”

Another heavy insult towards the Seeker, which he answered with his wings signalling some rude Vosian insults to the obnoxious red minibot. But Optimus noticed those bright, white wings trembling a little from time to time – no matter the stony façade, Starscream was deeply insecure and the continuous stream of insults, barbs and the treatment of the Autobots were getting to him. 

“Here.” – a cube was offered to Starscream, who accepted it, surprised by the normal tone with which it was offered – “They will get used to it. I mean you. Happy New Vorn, Starscream.”

Sideswipe didn’t wait for an answer before clinking his cube to the Seeker’s and lifting it to drink. Optimus, glad that someone was willing to accept his choice of a bondmate nodded and lifted his as well, gently nudging the surprised Seeker to follow suit. Even the loud music was lowered a bit and the tenseness of the wings relaxed somewhat.

“Good vorn to you too, Sideswipe.”

Starscream wouldn’t say it outright ever, but it felt good to hear a sympathetic voice after all the barely hidden slander. He drank the cube up together with the others… and spent the next few kliks spluttering and coughing at the potent brew. Sideswipe, the slagger laughed and Optimus fussed, but Starscream waved them both off, holding out his cube for a refill while blinking the drops of cleanser out of his optics. He might as well get plastered, maybe this party would get better through the haze of high-grade. He never would have thought that it would be the jet-judoing, crazy frontliner who had torn his wings up countless times, who would greet him… well, normally. 

Not that he was complaining. Not after a few more cubes, when even the music started to sound better and the slagging well-wishers disappeared into the crowd with their underhanded comments. The red twin was surprisingly good companion and his commentaries about the Autobots who looked darkly at the Seeker made Starscream laugh loudly and even Optimus smiled a little under the mask. His morose brother spoke much less, but he gave as good nasty looks to the passing, sneering minibots as they gave. 

“Starscream… maybe it will be enough now…?” – Optimus was worried. The twins’ brew was potent and themselves well able to drink any bot under the table – and it was really enough to make Starscream forget the less than stellar reception. But telling drunk mechs that it was enough has never worked in the history of parties… and it didn’t succeed this time either. 

A joor later the truckformer buried his faceplates in his servos hearing the effort Starscream, Sideswipe and Ironhide of all mechs muscled through their way of a song. He wasn’t even sure which song it was, they’ve mangled the words, the tone and their vocalizer so much, it was almost painful to hear. No, scratch that. It was acutely painful, especially the way Starscream’s infamous high, scratchy voice meshed with Ironhide’s bass growl he called singing. 

Two joors later it was Starscream alone who was still making a noise and Optimus realized that it was still better while there was a counterpoint to his shrill screech. For all his love, he couldn’t call the sound anything as dignified as singing. Sideswipe took up clapping the rhythm and instead of Ironhide, who’s fallen into recharge, it was Ratchet trying to mumble a few words of the refrain he dimly seemed to recognize. It was made harder by the fact that the Seeker was singing in Vosian for… for quite some time, though it took the rest of them a little while to recognize that fact. 

Three joors later there was only a few burbled notes coming from Starscream’s vocalizer and he was sitting half-sprawled in Optimus’s lap, gripping his cube hard after the Prime gently tried to pry it out of his servos. Fortunately he didn’t remember any more why he was grasping the drinking vessel, aside from holding onto it. The rest of the Autobots were draped on the furniture in various postures around them, all of them knocked out, even Sideswipe. Optimus had to marvel at the seemingly lightweight Seeker who managed to drink all of them under the table, but he was so tired, he couldn’t put two thoughts together. 

Five joors later it was just a blue claw twitching occasionally as it was lodged into Optimus’s grill, eliciting a low grumble from the half-recharging Prime and a drunken snicker from the completely plastered, but still vaguely online Starscream. The rest of the rec room was in similar state with mechs, cubes, treats and rubbish strewn all across the tables and lounges. Many of them were just as intimately entwined as Optimus and Starscream.

“Hepppi njuw vorrrn ‘ptimusss!”

Starscream’s words were so garbled, Optimus wasn’t even sure which language he was trying to articulate. But he got the gist of it and gathered the plastered Seeker to himself, kissing him thanks.


End file.
